IN WESTERN AFRICA. 
275 
LETTER FROM MR. WILBERFORCE. 
I found my people at Bonthe, British Sherbro, 
my birthplace, all well. Father, mother, and sis- 
ters wept when they saw me. They had almost 
given up the hope of ever seeing me at home ; 
and now that they saw me with their own eyes 
their joy was unbounded. When my father heard 
1 was coming home from America — I wrote just 
as we were leaving New York — he began prepa- 
rations for a grand dinner. A few days after my 
arrival the dinner w^as given. There were killed 
many fowls and ducks, and two pigs. We had a 
'grand time. The mission -house was used for the 
missionaries and those of my fidends who had 
been my former school-mates. The country peo- 
ple and others preferred to have their dinner at 
my sister’s house. With plenty of rice and soup, 
there was nothing that could mar the enjoyment 
of my country relatives. Father gave me a sheep, 
and I took it to Shengay. It was quite a pet. I 
called it ‘^Dick.” It was a pet with all the mis- 
sion-children. Not long ago I went to visit my 
uncle, and while I was gone poor ^^Dick” sick- 
ened and died. Mr. Gomer ordered the men to 
throw the sheep into the sea, but instead they took 
it to Shengay, and I suppose had a grand feast. 
You know everything possible is eaten here — 
snakes, rats, and things that make one almost sick 
